


Alternatives.

by Sunzgrabb123



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Jeankasa Week, Mild Smut, Modern Era, One-Sided Mikasa Ackerman/Jean Kirstein, Physical Abuse, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 10:10:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20794940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunzgrabb123/pseuds/Sunzgrabb123
Summary: Killing stalking-ish au;Mikasa! Sangwoo-ish x Jean! Yoonbum-ish.Mikasa Ackerman is in love with Eren Jaegar, her adoptive brother, although he doesn't reciprocate her feelings or acknowledges them. This causes Mikasa to spiral in a pit of utter insanity, murdering anyone who shows any affection towards her Eren; all while a certain someone watches her from a distance: Jean Kirstein. When Jean visits Mikasa's home to return her scarlet scarf, he finds the door unlocked and allows himself in, only to find a woman's half dead body in the basement, and slowly his image of a sweet, innocent Mikasa Ackerman turns to one of a sadistic psychopath with a lust for blood. Mikasa, fascinated with the boys devotion for her, cripples and imprisons him to find out why her Eren can't show the same yearning for her, like Jean does.





	Alternatives.

**Author's Note:**

> Notes: Mikasa would have still been saved by Eren & his Father after her parents were killed in front of her by the kidnappers - set around college so Eren, Mikasa and Jean are around the same age - Jean meets Mikasa in high school and his obsessions starts from there.  
((WARNING: I DO NOT IN ANY CONDONE ABUSE OF ANY KIND, MIKASA NEEDS SERIOUS MENTAL HELP - JEAN TOO - THIS IS JUST A VENT DABBLE THAT I THOUGHT OF))

Killing me softly,  
With her song. 

Flicking his brush against the rustic canvas, Jean focuses his hazel eyes onto the image he has made; his eyes momentarily etching toward Mikasa, who is staring impassively at the boy from afar with a towel draped around her neck, finishing off her morning workout. 

"What are you drawing?" 

"O-oh," he freezes, staring blankly at the canvas before looking back at Mikasa, "nothing really, just doodling.." He swallows. Mikasa tilts her head, grabbing at his ankle chains earning a light groan from Jean as his face winces to the pain in his ankles, "I want to see," she replies flatly. 

He swallows again, palms sweating as he slowly flips around his canvas, revealing a lovely portrait of Mikasa surrounded by nature with wings of a pure white; an angel, illuminating with hues of blue and red, with lavender skies and dully painted gray clouds, almost as dull as those eyes that pierce into the canvas. She blinks, scrunching up her nose as she draws the canvas closer, her dull pupils adjusting as she fixates on the page. 

"Do you.." He's hesitant to finish his sentence, Mikasa paying no attention to him when he speaks, although that's pretty normal for her. "Do you like it—?" 

She smacks her lips against his, another thing pretty normal for her. It confuses him, as she forces her tongue into his mouth, lapping it against the roof of his mouth as he mentally yells at him to keep his hands to himself; last time didn't go so well. She pulls at his hair, the canvas dropping to the floor with a little thud - why can't I touch her? - it's something he can't rack his brain around: she hates him, she hits him, she kisses him, touches him - why?

She pushes him back by his neck, the back of his head smacking against the wall, pain swelling from his skull as a migraine begins to sprout. He breathes heavily, mouth hanging open as his fingers dig into his palms, staring back into those dull gray eyes. "I hate it," she simply replies— 

"I'm not an angel, Jean." 

~

Her mahogany eyes drank the image of the boy and his anatomy, he's staring up at her with those same sad eyes, that prick with tears; her hand cups his bruised cheek, clammy and stained with tears, and she let's out a little noise of surprise when he clasps his hand over hers. 

"Do you want me, Jean?" She asks, only the smallest hint of emotion in her tone, and Jeans expression doesn't change. He slowly nods, and remains silent. She sneers at his silence, slipping her hand out from his grasp with clear aggression. 

"If you want something, use your words, Jean." 

He winces as her words spit at him with venom, he knows what she's trying to do; leading him toward the cliff blindfolded, before pushing him toward his undoubtedly clear demise. His lips part and form into a disgusted pout. Big mistake. 

He feels a sharp sting from his already bruised right cheek, beginning to deliver a vicious retort as he slowly brings his gaze to meet Mikasa's, although he is unprepared for what he's about to witness. 

There are tears dripping down her eyes, and her bottom lip tremble as they so desperately try to remain in a thin, straight line. Jean's features soften, he hesitantly brings his hand to touch her cheek, his thumb wiping away a single tear, gasping in a quiet manner as she grips his wrist, tightly. 

She doesn't move his hand, merely keeps it there as his palm rests on her cheek, his fingers curling into her soft, silky black hair—

"I want you, Mikasa." 

~

Jean grimaced the sharpened kitchen knife against the cutting board, scraping the cut vegetables into boiling pan. Wiping away the sweat from his forehead, he checks the time on the oven; 18:06.

He wheels his little chair toward the cupboards, straining his arm out to grab the salt, before having it handed to him by a weary Mikasa. "Not used to not being able to reach the top shelf, hm?" 

She teases lightly, Jean snickering lightly in response as he pushes himself to his original spot, adding the pinch of salt into the boiling pan. Mikasa leers over him, placing her hands on his shoulders as her lips meet his ear. "It smells good. You're a really great cook, Jeanie."

She nuzzles her nose into his neck, placing a light kiss on his flesh as she wraps her arms around him. He grips the kitchen counter, blood rushing to his cheeks to create an intense red tint from either side of his ears, something Mikasa finds very amusing as she swerves around his wheelie chair, placing her knee against his side with her hands cupping his warm cheeks. 

He swallows, parting his lips like he was expecting to be kissed, although Mikasa merely places a finger over them. "Could you smile for me? I miss that Jean Kirstein smile.." She says with a pout, and Jean is reluctant to obey Mikasa, curling his lips into a faint smile. Mikasa snickers to herself—

"Who would of thought. An ugly face is even uglier when it smiles."

~

The sound of glass breaking is one Jean has gotten used to, Mikasa manages to bring down a storm when she's upset or slightly annoyed, but this is different. He limps into the kitchen with the help from his crutches, wincing as another loud shatter is heard when Mikasa lodges an ornament at the wall with full force, the plaster beginning to scrape off of the wall. 

"What's.." He begins, arching a brow when Mikasa finally stops to take a breath, her breathing uneven and her lips trembling with her shoulders, while her chest violently heaves to regain some oxygen back into her lungs. "What's wrong?" 

She whips around a gory glare at the boy, making shivers from all the way up his frail spine as he ponders returning to the basement until the storm is over. "What's wrong with me, Jean?"

She roughly tackles him against a wall with her forearm pushed tightly to his throat, tight enough to be very uncomfortable, but loose enough to breathe. "Why are you still here?" She asks, and Jean merely blinks at her with knowing eyes. "Why can't you be him?" She closes the small room between her forearm and Jean's neck, causing him to breathe through sticky nostrils. She only stared back at him, anger managing to seep through the cracks of the emotionless mask she had trained herself to keep.

"You know why," he manages to reply, a small whisper - the faintest whisper. He won't stroke her ego no further. 

The anger broke through completely at his response; she released him from her throat-hold only to reach her hand underneath both his pants and boxers and grab his quickly hardening dick. 

In his opinion, the hold was just as effective, if not more, than the other. She roughly massaged him while biting viciously into his neck. She yanks her hand free and pushes his shoulder for him to slide down against the wall and onto the floor. He complies with little resistance, because the alternative to this treatment doesn't exactly meet his fancy. 

She swiftly unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his zipper in her haste. She pulls down his pants, his erection eagerly pointing up at her with expectancy. He's always ready for her when she needed him to be, always aching for her. Eren never did, he never listened to her, he never yearned for her presence like Jean did. 

She doesn't even bother to remove her panties, settling with merely tugging them out of the way to quickly find relief from him being inside her. He sits on the hard wood floor beneath her, over-whelmed with everything that had just transpired in the past 30 seconds. His half-lidded gaze meets hers when she turns her face to him. He's looking at her the way he always looked at her, it was so endearing and tender, and it irritated her to no end. His eyes were so full of that one human emotion she tried so hard to shut out from everyone. Everyone except Eren, but Eren never looked at her that way, he never stared at her with eyes so full of love and affection.

She grinds her hips against him, her pace hard and slow, agonizing. Jean was at a loss of what to do with his hands, he knew better than to put them on her like he wanted to, but he had no bed sheets to grasp between his fingers nor a headboard to grip under his palms.

He finally settled with placing them hard on the cold floor beside him. She seemed so angry, he didn't expect her to react at all, much less like this. She commands him to shut his eyes and he does so without questioning, but he peeks only a few seconds later to notice a wetness glistening in her eyes, and his heart stops for a moment. She's crying.

Mikasa sees that Jean has disobeyed her and her face contorts into fury.

"I told you to keep your eyes closed!" She delves her face back into his neck and bites harder than before, hard enough to draw blood which makes Jean wince and involuntarily shout in pain. She tastes the metallic, salty flavor of blood reach the tip of her tongue and she startles, jumping back immediately.

On more than one occasion Mikasa has taken some what of a pleasure in making Jean bleed, she's ripped her canines into his flesh so many times Jean barely reacts sometimes; but this is different. For once, she hadn't wanted to make him bleed - she's unsure what she wants from him anymore - she's furious beyond all relief. Because Eren won't give her the satisfaction and priase she desperately needs, she turns to her little pet Jean as a substitute. Or so, that's what she convinces herself. 

Mikasa continues to grind on Jean, trying to let the pleasure drown out the anger, to let it distract her from the tears threatening to fall down her cheeks, when Jean does something that takes her by complete surprise.

His long arms wrap around her and he kisses her hotly, something she hadn't experienced in what felt like an age. She doesn't stop him, she can't find it in herself to push him away when he trails wet kisses along her jaw and down her neck, taking a finger to gently move her scarf aside. She just lets it happen. For the last few moments of their climax, she just lets it happen.

She throws her head back, letting her orgasm escape her. She feels the liquid hotness of his seed sear her insides as he chokes out groans into her collarbone. Mikasa detaches herself from his member and sits back on his lap. She's breathless, wrapping her hands around his throat to stop the attack of kisses on her neck, she presses her thumbs beneath his chin, forcing him to look up at her with those same knowing eyes. 

"I could end you right here, right now.." She says in a husky voice, "you understand that, Jean?"

He nods, and she gives him a half sympathetic smile—

"Good boy." 

[END]


End file.
